Nov 12, 2011 17:04
Cracking under the noonday sun,
the pavement was begging to be defaced.
You threw out a box of chalk and drew
hearts and names and dates and times.
And you built a boat, blue like
the waves it sat on and
you said it would take you away
where I couldn't follow.
I'm so scared that I will forget your face
and I fervently pray I could draw your face
in chalk too.
I'd also draw a lifesaver,
orange and white with your name on it.
I'd draw your boat moored safely to my shores.
Most of all,
I'd draw a sea so calm it would seem
as though it were in its pajamas and gown,
putting its feet up, reading the Sunday paper
with a cup of tea on the table.
I'd draw the kind of sea that didn't claim you.
For Simone.
childhood,
death,
poetry